Florigraphia Britannica; Or, Engravings and Descriptions of the Flowering Plants and Ferns of Britain, Volume 3

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Groombridge, 1857 - Botany
 

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Page 1191 - I have burned part of it in the fire ; yea, also I have baked bread upon the coals thereof ; I have roasted flesh, and eaten it : and shall I make the residue thereof an abomination ? shall I fall down to the stock of a tree ? " He feedeth on ashes : a deceived heart hath turned him aside, that he cannot deliver his soul, nor say, " Is there not a lie in my right hand...
Page 1138 - Almighty's form Glasses itself in tempests; in all time Calm or convulsed — in breeze, or gale, or storm, Icing the pole, or in the torrid clime Dark-heaving; boundless, endless, and sublime — The image of Eternity — the throne Of the Invisible; even from out thy slime The monsters of the deep are made; each zone Obeys thee; thou goest forth, dread, fathomless, alone.
Page 1152 - Thanks to the human heart by which we live, Thanks to its tenderness, its joys, and fears, To me the meanest flower that blows can give Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.
Page 1210 - For ye shall go out with joy, and be led forth with peace: the mountains and the hills shall break forth before you into singing, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands.
Page 1152 - To live beneath your more habitual sway. I love the Brooks which down their channels fret. Even more than when I tripped lightly as they ; The innocent brightness of a new-born Day Is lovely yet ; The Clouds that gather round the setting sun Do take a sober colouring from an eye That hath kept watch o'er man's mortality ; Another race hath been, and other palms are won.
Page 1082 - Not worlds on worlds in phalanx deep Need we to prove a God is here ; The daisy, fresh from winter's sleep, Tells of his hand in lines as clear.
Page 1191 - And Jacob rose up early in the morning, and took the stone that he had put for his pillows, and set it up for a pillar, and poured oil upon the top of it.
Page 1199 - Exulting, rich beyond the wealth of kings, I felt a sense of pain when I beheld The silent trees, and saw the intruding sky. Then, dearest Maiden, move along these shades In gentleness of heart ; with gentle hand Touch, for there is a spirit in the woods.
Page 951 - Wi' the burn stealing under the lang yellow broom. Far dearer to me are yon humble broom bowers, Where the blue-bell and gowan lurk lowly unseen: For there, lightly tripping amang the wild-flowers, A listening the linnet, aft wanders my Jean.
Page 1152 - Strength in what remains behind, In the primal sympathy Which having been must ever be, In the soothing thoughts that spring Out of human suffering, In the faith that looks through death, In years that bring the philosophic mind. And oh ye Fountains, Meadows, Hills, and Groves, Think not of any severing of our loves!

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